Just L
by CyanideSlavery
Summary: Wammy and L meet for the first time L is 10 and continuously being mistaken as odd, difficult and mentally handicapped by the orphanages he frequents. Drabble, fluff, one shot?


**Title: **Just L

**Fandom: **Death Note

**Pairing:** none

**Rating:** G (wow my first G rated fic O.o)

**Warnings:** very description based, not much dialogue.

**Description:** Wammy and L meet for the first time; L is 10 and continuously being mistaken as odd, difficult and mentally handicapped by the orphanages he frequents. Drabble, fluff, one shot?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Death Note, it is the property of its creators Ohba Tsugumi and Obata Takeshi bows.

An extremely pale, scrawny boy, clad in baggy hand-me-down clothes sat on the hard wooden bench outside the orphanage matron's office. He had long ago discarded the shoes with the orphanage staff continuously tried to get him to confine his feet within. He clasped the seat with his bare toes and subconsciously worried the pad of his thumb with his teeth as his wide dark eyes stared, from between his knees, down at the shoes

Maybe he should throw them away or hide them? He shook his head absentmindedly, no…they was a 65 chance, considering the starkness of the orphanage and the fact that he never went outside, that the staff would simply find them and begin trying to make him wear them again. Destroying them would be no good either because the chances that they would simply find him new ones was about 96 as it was state policy that the children have their basic needs catered to and all orphanages would be inspected randomly throughout the year to make sure that they were abiding by this law. He never went outside anyway so he saw no need for shoes; they were an inconvenience for him.

As he pondered his shoe dilemma the door to the office creaked open and a thin woman with violently straight dyed black and a severe fringe stepped out. The boy noted that she was wearing that horrendous orange-red lipstick and her shiny black pumps which she only ever wore when she was trying to impress someone; he felt his spirits rise slightly as he realized that he wasn't going to get yelled at for being 'odd' today.

"Leon get in here." She hissed

The boy stood up, ignoring the shoes lying in the middle of the hallway. His eyes were trained on the tall woman hovering in the doorway, smiling with fake nicety and patience at the occupant inside whilst she waited for the boy to reach the door. He tilted his head to the left as he noted the other occupant within the room. An older man, probably no older than his mid-forties, however a man who was all the same beginning to show his age, as indicated from the few streaks of silver which dusted his dark styled hair and rather bushy moustache. The man did not look like one of the government officials who had come any of those other times to ship him off to a new home when his current orphanage said that they could not stand his oddities anymore. This man was clad in a pinstripe suit which did not give him a threatening appearance as it would have done most men. His shoes were a deep chocolate color and whilst they appeared new the soles were well worn, showing that the man indeed liked to travel and perhaps become involved in his work, whatever that may be, the boy had not gotten that far yet as these thoughts rapidly darted through his head.

"Mr. Wammy this is Leon." The matron said from behind her desk as the boy climbed into the plush arm chair and adopted his usual seating position.

The matron shook her head in exasperation as the boy clenched the cushion beneath him with his toes and began to worry his thumb again whilst staring at the man.

The boy reasoned that the man, whom he guessed to be Mr. Wammy, couldn't be here to actually adopt him as the matron would have shown a man of such class one of the 'good children'. He waited for the man to speak.

The man turned to him, a gentle smile on his face, crystal blue eyes behind gold wire frames showed no trace of malice or scorn. The boy decided to keep up his guard anyway.

"Hello Leon, my name is Quillsh Wammy." He said, voice warm and honest as he extended his hand to the small boy

The boy eyed the hand for a moment, it looked like it had seen a lot of work and there was no band on the ring finger to indicate a life partner of some kind. His mind flicked through every scenario which may play out from the simple shaking of this man's hand, but upon finding that the percentage that something bad would happen to him very low, he cautiously took the man's hand, indeed confirming his pervious observation of them being hardened from work.

"Leon!" The matron hissed and then smiled apologetically at the man across from her "I'm terribly sorry about his manners, he doesn't speak much, the boy is very shy and doesn't appear to get along with the other children very well at all, he isolates himself."

Mr. Wammy nodded, although the boy believed it to be an acknowledgement of what she was saying rather than agreeing with her, she appeared to take it differently.

The man turned his attention to the boy in question "What things are you interested in?"

The boy noted his body language, the way he leaned in slightly so as if not to miss a single syllable that the boy uttered. Maybe he was one of these Psychiatrists which he had been reading about recently.

"I like sugar and books and solving problems." He said after thinking about it for a few minutes

"He's read all of the books in the orphanage, he's always got his nose in a book, it's very unhealthy." She said in a stage whisper, as though the boy could not hear her

The boy simply watched the pair with glazed over eyes.

"Mrs. Greer has told me that you don't attend your classes with the other children, would you like to tell me why?" Mr. Wammy asked

The boy thought that sounded like a question a Psychiatrist would ask, making you take responsibility for your own actions rather than telling you that you should go to your classes or that it was a bad thing to skip them. If his sanity was in question then this interview would not yield to anything because even if they asked him those tell tale questions he would be able to pick them out and tell them what they wanted to hear, even if he wasn't perfectly sane.

"The classes are too easy." He replied

Mr. Wammy nodded and pulled a folded sheaf of paper from the inside pocket of his pinstripe jacket.

"Leon do you remember taking a test at the last orphanage?" Mr. Wammy asked him

The boy nodded slowly, eyes flicking between the papers and the man's face.

Mr. Wammy faced the matron then "When 'Leon', or Lucas as they called him at that orphanage, took a standard test for someone of his age he passed and got a score of 100, the same happened when he was tested at high school level and he was only 8. So he was given an IQ test." He handed her one of the papers

She looked at it and shook her head "This must be a different boy…I mean Leon is clearly…well…retarded!" she exclaimed

Mr. Whammy shook his head and took the paper from her, handing it over to the boy who accepted it between his index finger and thumb, tilting his head slightly to read it at the angle it was on. Well if he had achieved well on his test then why was this man here, maybe they wanted him to take another one?

"I have a special orphanage in England for children such as Leon and I would like for him to come and live there, I believe it would be very beneficial." He explained

The boy nearly fell from his chair. Someone actually wanted to take him in, the odd boy without a name? He wondered if this was a trick and surreptitiously looked around the room from beneath his mop of dark shaggy hair for any recording devices.

"We have quite a large library." Mr. Wammy said, almost as an off thought, not missing the subtle excitement which lit the boy's eyes.

The matron agreed on it and signed the forms Mr. Wammy had provided her. Within fifteen minutes of reaching their decision the boy and Mr. Wammy were walking down one of the dingy corridors towards the main entrance. The boy carrying what meager possessions he had.

"What name would you prefer us to call you?" Mr. Wammy asked

The boy thought it over for a moment before the corners of his mouth tweaked up slightly in a small smile "The name which is on my birth certificate."

Mr. Wammy frowned slightly in confusion "L?"

"Just L." a 10 year-old L replied as he and Wammy walked through those dreary doors and out into the crispness of a new day.


End file.
